


steel threads

by templemarker



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 21:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/templemarker/pseuds/templemarker





	steel threads

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kuro49](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/gifts).



They were assigned to the new Sydney Shatterdome as a gesture of good faith from the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps. After the devastation, the Australians had been quick to force their anger into righteous vengeance. They fast-tracked their brand-new, state of the art Jaeger, Lucky Seven, and immediately went into production on its next-generation brother, Vulcan Specter. 

If Pentecost had his way, he would keep them in Anchorage. Tendo knew when to keep his mouth shut and when to offer a baldy honest opinion, and right now, he was in shut up mode. After Onibaba, after Tamsin finally admitted she had passed out not from neural overload but from her own body giving out; after Coyote Tango had been pulled off the line, and her pilots forcibly retired from active duty, Ranger P had almost grudgingly accepted his commission to Marshal and the attendant responsibilities. Pentecost had requested Anchorage, near the Jaeger construction lines for Canada and the United States. He got it, teaching and developing the Academy nearby while it was constructed and outfitted. And while at the Academy, he took his pick of of Op-tech, J-tech, and K-Science apprentices in the 2017 class. 

Tendo was one of those people. When Anchorage had opened, Marshal P put them to work immediately, cutting the ones who weren't at the level he wanted, permanently assigning those who were. It wasn't easy. But for those that had the skill and joined the Academy to serve in the only thing standing between the Earth and destruction, it was the best job in the world. 

They were a little too good at it, a little too put together, and their core staffing unit got the nickname "Pentecostals" forced on them by every jealous little shit on the PPDC net. But their reputation preceded them: when the PPDC Oversight Committee of the United Nations reviewed their performance, with high marks and acknowledgement, they were temporarily assigned, as a full complement, to the new Sydney Shatterdome so Stacker and his now qualified team could apprentice the staff who would be taking over command.

At least it was warmer. 

Lucky Seven was in Bay One. Horizon Brave, Diablo Intercept, Viking Sentry, and Fired Shield were all deployed to the other four bays until the Australians' own Vulcan Specter came online and more Mark IIs were available to reorganized the deployment structure. 

Lucky was going out for a patrol, testing Marshal P's new concept of a mile-out defensive structure; if one Jaeger stayed in place to protect the coastline, another two could mount a frontal assault on the Kaiju and team up to take him out without compromising the posture of the defensive Jaeger. 

She was piloted by the Hansen brothers, fresh out of the pilot program and ready to tackle the world. The one brother, Herc, was a local hero, saving not only the life of his son in Mutavore's attack two years previous, but an entire primary school of children. Herc seemed to hate the attention, focusing on developing his skills in the sim and in test mode in Lucky's conn-pod, but his brother Scott soaked it up, going out on libo whenever it was available and slinking back into the Shatterdome's quarters looking still drunk and worked over. 

Before any patrol run, there was a half-day's worth of prep, and Tendo was nearly attached to the LOCCENT by an umbilical cord; he hadn't stood in way too long. A cup of coffee, still steaming, came into his peripheral vision and was placed on the coaster shaped like a Lincoln penny. Tendo looked up. "Thank you, Marshal," he said, surprised but grateful. Pentecost just nodded, and went to still at his desk, tucked off to the right side of the room. 

He was trying to run line-checks on the coding for the defensive structure they'd be using, humming against the low chatter of the ops staff, when he heard from the doorway behind him, "Hey, Marshal."

It was Herc, Lucky Seven's guy on the left side of the pod. Tendo resisted the urge to look back. 

Tendo liked the guy, what he knew of him, but since he was mostly trying to handle his bratty kid and manage his irresponsible brother, he never came out for still-drinking nights with the engineers, or the weekly tea ceremony a couple of the K-science officers put on for whoever wanted to attend. 

He'd noticed, though--because it was on him to notice everything, especially the stuff that would knock the neural interface out of whack during the handshake--that Ranger Herc and Marshal P seemed to have a kind of understanding. He'd watched once, at a senior staff meeting, the way the Marshal would take Herc aside as everyone was coming into the conference room and talk with him for a few minutes. It looked like Marshal P was asking after him, seeing how he was doing, which was unusual in that he viewed his pilots, officers, and staff as tools in the arsenal he was putting together. Tendo knew it was easier for Marshal P to think of everyone in terms of the battles they fought, and not as people who would be the first to go if a kaiju ever figured out the importance of the Shatterdomes. But sometimes Pentecost's care shone out, like the coffee steaming next to Tendo's arm. 

Tendo heard more than saw Marshal P stand, and the low murmur of their voices. When he cycled down his system for a cooling phase, the white noise surrounding him abruptly faded, and he could hear more. 

"--thought about the Deputy position? I know they're looking for a strong second to Marshal Kelly. It would give you the chance to spend more time with Charles. Or, Herc, my Deputy in Anchorage is running point right now--he'll be recommended for commission after I've returned."

There was a long pause, and Herc's graveled voice sounded conflicted. "Marshal, you know how much I appreciate the time you've spent with me, with myself and Scott, bringing us up to the standards you and Sevier set with Coyote. I--well. I just stepped into the pilot's rig, it seems, and when Scott and I agreed to enter the Corps, it was knowing that we were going to pilot together." They were quiet behind him, and Tendo picked up his coffee, inching his chair to an angle where he could watch them from corner of his eye. In the Shatterdomes, people never had much time for hobbies, or recreation. Observing everyone else (and keeping track of the gossip and drama) was the best way to have an interest other than work. 

"I'm not asking you to do anything," Marshal P said, hands in his pockets as they so often were. Tendo hadn't figured out yet whether that was a defensive move on his part, or an example of Pentecost's supreme cool in every situation. 

"Just think about where you want to be with this in a few years," he continued. "There's only one road for pilots, and it ends up being how quickly you can get to the last stop. But this program only succeeds because of the men and women who make it possible for our machines, our hopes, to get out there and deal head-on with the kaiju."

Herc's head dropped, nodding a bit, and Pentecost dropped a hand on his shoulder, an unprecedented gesture of affection as far as Tendo know. As fast as it was there, it was gone again, and the two men stood together, eyes drifting out the window and into the vision-spread of Horizon Brave. 

"Tendo," Herc said, friendly. Marshal P watched Herc walk over to Tendo, then went back to his desk. 

"Herc, my man," Tendo said, reflexively sitting back up in his chair. "You excited about this defensive run? Should be interesting to see how the models apply to real world testing."

Herc's grin was broad, and he plunked down in a chair next to Tendo. "I've been telling my boy about it," he said enthusiastically. "It's about the only acceptable topic at dinner right now."

Tendo clapped him on the shoulder. "Let me show you how the diagnostics are going to operate, so you can play to that channel when you're locked into the rig and the neural net."

They lapsed into conversation about the test, and when Tendo looked back to glace and Marshal P, he was staring at them both, familiar resolve on his face.


End file.
